This last week has been absolutely awful. I had to go through something that I have avoided and because of that, it caused great heartache and pain. I was so beyond able to function and shut down completely that I make the decision to go check into a hotel for a couple days. Unfortunately, I did have to go to work because we were short handed due to a girl quitting with no notice. Yes, I will hesitantly admit that I drank a lot, didn't eat, and was on the verge of harming myself. Between the personal pain and the stress at work, I was a mess.
The hotel stay was something I could not afford but in order to stay emotionally and physically safe, I had to leave. During my stay, I stayed in bed and watched TV. I did not drink or do anything stupid. While it wasn't completely productive in processing through the situation, it kept me safe for the time being.
I won't go into detail about what I went through and what caused this "melt down", it was long time coming and it was due to not being able to have healthy relationships. In the past, I would let people walk all over me, convince me that they are right and I am wrong, and eventually just silently deal with the hurt. I would feel like a complete failure because I couldn't do anything right. That was until this time. This time I stood my ground. I said how I felt and didn't let this person try to even talk me into different feelings. I felt betrayed, disrespected, like a fool, embarrassed, hurt, anger, and self hate.
No matter what, I was not going to allow this person to hurt me or disrespect me anymore, period. At the time I didn't realize the impact of what I was saying. I honestly don't know that I can remember everything I said. What I do know is that I was done. That I deserve more. That I do not in any way deserve to repeatedly hurt and disrespected in such a betrayed way. I spoke my mind then went into the negative downward spiral.
It wasn't until I spoke to a friend that I realized how powerful I had been that day. She pointed out that I said the words, "I am worth more than that". Wow, those actually came out of my mouth? First of all, I am so thankful for this friend that didn't judge me or criticize me, or quit talking to me. She listened and most importantly, she pointed out all the positive things I said and did. Finally I did get to talk to my therapist and that's when things really hit. I felt full on feelings of anger and hatred and started to cry. I was and am hurting so much over this. For those that know me, I do not cry, not easily. I know I have more crying and more processing and more figuring things out to do, but I know that I am so thankful for these two people that encourage and support me.
I don't know if I will ever be able to have decent relationships, but I do know that I am a new person. One that won't allow negative into my space and won't allow this betrayal and disrespect anymore. I don't deserve it and neither do my girls. I am focusing on myself and my girls. Doing things I want to do and enjoy doing. Helping my girls know that they deserve more also and they are worth way more than this kind of pain and treatment.
Sunday, August 4, 2013
Monday, July 29, 2013
Insanity
Definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result.
Something I struggle with is getting out of this cycle. It seems impossible with promises of being different. While things can be different, it doesn't mean better or even less hurtful. I just don't know how to get out of the cycle.
There are many things that can fit into this category. Relationships, food, alcohol, self-harm, and even positive things like drawing or painting. Each time there is a promise of something new. A promise of being in a different place. A promise of being able to handle it. A promise of being in a different place. The problem is that it typically ends the same. With me in pain and hurting and dragging in more and more of the "acting out" behavior trying to fix the original issue. Logically I am completely aware of the fact that I am just covering up the issue and not dealing with it. But being unable to regulate my emotions, it just seems impossible to get out of the cycle.
On the plus side, the more I become aware of what is going on and my disorder(s), the more I can work on them. I am really trying to focus on learning new skills and being able to step back and use them. Maybe someday I will be able to perfect them and get out of this cycle of insanity. This cycle that keeps bringing me back to more pain and hurt.
Insanity...such a scary word!
Something I struggle with is getting out of this cycle. It seems impossible with promises of being different. While things can be different, it doesn't mean better or even less hurtful. I just don't know how to get out of the cycle.
There are many things that can fit into this category. Relationships, food, alcohol, self-harm, and even positive things like drawing or painting. Each time there is a promise of something new. A promise of being in a different place. A promise of being able to handle it. A promise of being in a different place. The problem is that it typically ends the same. With me in pain and hurting and dragging in more and more of the "acting out" behavior trying to fix the original issue. Logically I am completely aware of the fact that I am just covering up the issue and not dealing with it. But being unable to regulate my emotions, it just seems impossible to get out of the cycle.
On the plus side, the more I become aware of what is going on and my disorder(s), the more I can work on them. I am really trying to focus on learning new skills and being able to step back and use them. Maybe someday I will be able to perfect them and get out of this cycle of insanity. This cycle that keeps bringing me back to more pain and hurt.
Insanity...such a scary word!
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Painting
I haven't written a while, mainly because I just don't know what to write. Daily struggles seem so silly to me. Most of the time I am embarrassed by the little things I struggle with. But the truth is, they are real, they are part of me, and they make my world so very difficult.
Today, however, I will write about a struggle/success. This last week I attempted to attend an art class. It was supposed to be a night out with other people that like art, painting, and even wine. The problem...I do not do well in social situations. People scare me and I just assume stay away. Not only that, I haven't painted in a very long time. I am far toooo critical of my work and panic with the lack of perfection. Recently I have tried pencil drawings and feel somewhat comfortable with that. I just don't share them and I know that I can erase and start over.
The class. Well the first step was to sign up, which I did. Second step was actually making the commitment to show up, which I did as well. With much anxiety, I got in my car and headed to the class. Of course I got so lost. My anxiety sky-rocketed. I had urges to act out and wanted to cry. I walked around for half an hour before calling someone for help. It turns out I was in the wrong place all together. Uh oh. Here comes all the negative self-talk. "I am so stupid. Why did you think you could do something like this. I am worthless. I can't do anything right." And so on. I won't write the really bad stuff.
After support and several deep breaths, I got back in my car...and drove to the right place. Sat in my car for a while before getting enough courage to walk in very late. My anxiety was very high, I was extremely embarrassed, my feelings were off the charts, but I walked in anyway. Okay, that part was over. I got there.
Now to paint something. I felt like just getting there was good enough. I would sit for a minute then leave. But there was someone there to assist me in getting caught up on the painting. Ugh. I hurried through, painting fast with a shaky hand and managed to get through the night.
I didn't finish the painting to my satisfaction. I felt hurried and sloppy. I am very critical of my own stuff. I got in my car and gladly drove home. Phew, it was over. When I got home, my girls with waiting with a smile and anxiously wanting to see what I had painted. They loved loved loved it. The painting is currently hanging by the front door.
I am not sure how I feel about it today, but the success of the whole thing was just that I did it despite all the anxiety, bumps to get there, and negative feelings I have about painting with color. And everyday my girls look at it in amazement that I could actually do that. I am not sure if I will go back, but I am leaning toward yes. I have a couple of people that have volunteered to go with me to make it easier so we shall see. There is a huge part of me that wants to so badly get back into something I really love doing. Art and creating!!!!
Today, however, I will write about a struggle/success. This last week I attempted to attend an art class. It was supposed to be a night out with other people that like art, painting, and even wine. The problem...I do not do well in social situations. People scare me and I just assume stay away. Not only that, I haven't painted in a very long time. I am far toooo critical of my work and panic with the lack of perfection. Recently I have tried pencil drawings and feel somewhat comfortable with that. I just don't share them and I know that I can erase and start over.
The class. Well the first step was to sign up, which I did. Second step was actually making the commitment to show up, which I did as well. With much anxiety, I got in my car and headed to the class. Of course I got so lost. My anxiety sky-rocketed. I had urges to act out and wanted to cry. I walked around for half an hour before calling someone for help. It turns out I was in the wrong place all together. Uh oh. Here comes all the negative self-talk. "I am so stupid. Why did you think you could do something like this. I am worthless. I can't do anything right." And so on. I won't write the really bad stuff.
After support and several deep breaths, I got back in my car...and drove to the right place. Sat in my car for a while before getting enough courage to walk in very late. My anxiety was very high, I was extremely embarrassed, my feelings were off the charts, but I walked in anyway. Okay, that part was over. I got there.
Now to paint something. I felt like just getting there was good enough. I would sit for a minute then leave. But there was someone there to assist me in getting caught up on the painting. Ugh. I hurried through, painting fast with a shaky hand and managed to get through the night.
I didn't finish the painting to my satisfaction. I felt hurried and sloppy. I am very critical of my own stuff. I got in my car and gladly drove home. Phew, it was over. When I got home, my girls with waiting with a smile and anxiously wanting to see what I had painted. They loved loved loved it. The painting is currently hanging by the front door.
I am not sure how I feel about it today, but the success of the whole thing was just that I did it despite all the anxiety, bumps to get there, and negative feelings I have about painting with color. And everyday my girls look at it in amazement that I could actually do that. I am not sure if I will go back, but I am leaning toward yes. I have a couple of people that have volunteered to go with me to make it easier so we shall see. There is a huge part of me that wants to so badly get back into something I really love doing. Art and creating!!!!
Saturday, July 6, 2013
"Just Give Me A Reason"
Songs mean a lot to me. I am not sure why, but the words usually hit me pretty hard. With that said, this is one of my favorites right now. It's by Pink, Just Give Me A Reason.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OpQFFLBMEPI
My interpretation is that it's about a couple that goes through this time of falling out of love trying to figure out how to love again. It goes deeper than that so you'll have to listen to it, but I will explain why it touches me so much.
As a sufferer of BPD, relationships in general are very difficult. We love hard, love easily, hate hard, and hate easily. Not just in romantic ways. With friends, family, children, pets, people in the line at the grocery store, yeah, pretty much everyone we come in contact with. I have learned to put up walls so high that I rarely let people in close enough to have a chance. When a person tried to break that wall, I push them away. It's a natural process that is so automatic, I don't even realize it happens.
Back to the song - it makes me think that maybe through all the abuse, the relationships, the experiences I have had through out my life, just maybe, maybe I am not completely broken. That maybe I can learn to love again, and learn to love in a healthy way and keep relationships without pushing them away. I like to listen to the hope that Pink sings about.
After a conversation with someone, I needed to hear this song or at least know that I am not completely hopeless. This person said, "you're a quitter, plain and simple and I feel sorry for your kids" Ouch!!! That was mean and hurt me to the core. I did start crying right away and went into this downward spiral of negative things. This person, who supposedly cares about me and calls me a friend has hurt me where people can hurt me the most. My children.
It's bad enough that I have my own feelings of doubt, failure, guilt, etc about being a parent. I am hard enough on myself that I definitely do not need people saying such hurtful things to me. Almost a week later, I am still very hurt and still not able to regulate that emotion. What if this person is right? What if I am a quitter? What if my kids need people to feel sorry for them? What right do I have to even be a parent?
Sometimes I wish people were more careful with their words. Most of the time I wish I was more careful with my words, especially the ones I say to myself. I have to have hope that I can "learn to to love again" as Pink sings. I have to have hope that I am just bent. My reason is my kids even though I want to give up most of the time. Small hope, small reason, but I have to hope that I can love.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OpQFFLBMEPI
My interpretation is that it's about a couple that goes through this time of falling out of love trying to figure out how to love again. It goes deeper than that so you'll have to listen to it, but I will explain why it touches me so much.
As a sufferer of BPD, relationships in general are very difficult. We love hard, love easily, hate hard, and hate easily. Not just in romantic ways. With friends, family, children, pets, people in the line at the grocery store, yeah, pretty much everyone we come in contact with. I have learned to put up walls so high that I rarely let people in close enough to have a chance. When a person tried to break that wall, I push them away. It's a natural process that is so automatic, I don't even realize it happens.
Back to the song - it makes me think that maybe through all the abuse, the relationships, the experiences I have had through out my life, just maybe, maybe I am not completely broken. That maybe I can learn to love again, and learn to love in a healthy way and keep relationships without pushing them away. I like to listen to the hope that Pink sings about.
After a conversation with someone, I needed to hear this song or at least know that I am not completely hopeless. This person said, "you're a quitter, plain and simple and I feel sorry for your kids" Ouch!!! That was mean and hurt me to the core. I did start crying right away and went into this downward spiral of negative things. This person, who supposedly cares about me and calls me a friend has hurt me where people can hurt me the most. My children.
It's bad enough that I have my own feelings of doubt, failure, guilt, etc about being a parent. I am hard enough on myself that I definitely do not need people saying such hurtful things to me. Almost a week later, I am still very hurt and still not able to regulate that emotion. What if this person is right? What if I am a quitter? What if my kids need people to feel sorry for them? What right do I have to even be a parent?
Sometimes I wish people were more careful with their words. Most of the time I wish I was more careful with my words, especially the ones I say to myself. I have to have hope that I can "learn to to love again" as Pink sings. I have to have hope that I am just bent. My reason is my kids even though I want to give up most of the time. Small hope, small reason, but I have to hope that I can love.
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Water
Well, I haven't had a whole lot to say lately. At the same time, I have had so much filling my head that I probably could have wrote about some of the difficulties I have been facing and dealing with. I think I have been too stuck in my head, which leads me to a deep depression and stuck in bed.
Food has always been an issue for me and when I found out I have health issues preventing me from being where I want to be, my eating disorder has kicked in full throttle. There is the logical side, the wise mind, that knows that I am only working against my body, but the emotional side, the BPD side, keeps me stuck in my head and even obsessive about it. This only leads me to more depression and more self-hatred. It's a vicious cycle that I can't seem to get out of.
One thing that has seemed to somewhat get my mind to rest is the water. I love the water and the sun. Now that the pool is open, I have been going swimming with my girls everyday this past week. There is just something about the water that soothes my soul. I don't even know what or why. My dream and hope is to one day live near the beach so I can always have access to the water, not to mention the sounds and smells of the ocean. It is the only thing, thus far, that I have discovered that can soothe me.
Of course my girls enjoy the swimming and are happy to "spend time with me" since I work a lot. I do wear clothes over my swim suit though because of serious body hatred. There is no way I would be able to enjoy the water just in the suit. Either way, the water has helped me this last week to get somewhat out my head for a little bit.
I do love the water, the sunshine, and most of all the beach!
Food has always been an issue for me and when I found out I have health issues preventing me from being where I want to be, my eating disorder has kicked in full throttle. There is the logical side, the wise mind, that knows that I am only working against my body, but the emotional side, the BPD side, keeps me stuck in my head and even obsessive about it. This only leads me to more depression and more self-hatred. It's a vicious cycle that I can't seem to get out of.
One thing that has seemed to somewhat get my mind to rest is the water. I love the water and the sun. Now that the pool is open, I have been going swimming with my girls everyday this past week. There is just something about the water that soothes my soul. I don't even know what or why. My dream and hope is to one day live near the beach so I can always have access to the water, not to mention the sounds and smells of the ocean. It is the only thing, thus far, that I have discovered that can soothe me.
Of course my girls enjoy the swimming and are happy to "spend time with me" since I work a lot. I do wear clothes over my swim suit though because of serious body hatred. There is no way I would be able to enjoy the water just in the suit. Either way, the water has helped me this last week to get somewhat out my head for a little bit.
I do love the water, the sunshine, and most of all the beach!
Thursday, May 30, 2013
The Deadly Silence
I ended my last post with "Silence is hell!" I have been thinking about that statement since then and know that I can expand on what that means for me. It's a very true statement!
Ever since I can remember, I have always had to have music or the TV on. It didn't even matter what it was. I just needed noise. Of course when I was younger, I didn't know why. I remember long quiet car rides that were just torture. My skin would crawl and I felt like I could jump out of my own skin. Other times I would pace the floor in hopes of feeling better, not be able to sleep if it was quiet, and have an incredible amount of anxiety.
Getting older and learning new ways to "act-out" to get rid of the silence, didn't help. All it did was end up with me in treatment, therapy, and people telling me to stop. Even then I still didn't completely understand why. Why, after so many years of treatment, do I still suffer? Not only do I answers now, I can understand more and more about myself. Like the silence.
Much of the time, I feel like a hamster running on the wheel non-stop. My brain just doesn't stop. The more I tell it to stop, the faster it runs. I have tried everything, but still running, especially in the silence. I can't sit in a quiet car. Or go to bed without the TV on. Or sit and wait at an event for it to start. Or even sit at work during a slow, quiet moment. I am trapped on this wheel with no way out.
Silence is not pretty, not for me!
Ever since I can remember, I have always had to have music or the TV on. It didn't even matter what it was. I just needed noise. Of course when I was younger, I didn't know why. I remember long quiet car rides that were just torture. My skin would crawl and I felt like I could jump out of my own skin. Other times I would pace the floor in hopes of feeling better, not be able to sleep if it was quiet, and have an incredible amount of anxiety.
Getting older and learning new ways to "act-out" to get rid of the silence, didn't help. All it did was end up with me in treatment, therapy, and people telling me to stop. Even then I still didn't completely understand why. Why, after so many years of treatment, do I still suffer? Not only do I answers now, I can understand more and more about myself. Like the silence.
Much of the time, I feel like a hamster running on the wheel non-stop. My brain just doesn't stop. The more I tell it to stop, the faster it runs. I have tried everything, but still running, especially in the silence. I can't sit in a quiet car. Or go to bed without the TV on. Or sit and wait at an event for it to start. Or even sit at work during a slow, quiet moment. I am trapped on this wheel with no way out.
Silence is not pretty, not for me!
Monday, May 27, 2013
In My Head
While I would rather be able to say something profound or meaningful, I can't. I have thought and thought and just can't think of anything to say.
I have been stuck in my head all weekend doesn't anything and everything to get out. Depression wins. I feel empty and useless. Sadness.
Silence is hell!
I have been stuck in my head all weekend doesn't anything and everything to get out. Depression wins. I feel empty and useless. Sadness.
Silence is hell!
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